


Shark’s Advocate

by seven77



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, POV Chloe, Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 04:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven77/pseuds/seven77
Summary: Lucifer gets that pet shark he’s always wanted. Chloe disapproves.  But it’s more complicated than you might think.





	Shark’s Advocate

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how in “Let Pinhead Sing!” Lucifer voiced his desire to buy a pet shark? This is that story. It takes place in season 3 (so no season 4 spoilers here) and could be read as gen or pre-Lucifer/Chloe. I’m actually not sure about the legality of owning a pet shark in LA, but for the purposes of this fic, let’s pretend it's highly frowned upon.

“A pet _what?_ ”  

Chloe wonders what God she has to pray to in order to achieve an uneventful afternoon.  Meanwhile, the number-one-worst-person-to-ask-about-theology leans back in his chair beside Chloe’s desk, looking entirely too charmed by himself.  There might as well be canary feathers on his lips.

“Well, I know you humans have bloody awful hearing, but I didn’t think it was _that_ bad.  A pet _shark,_ Detective.”

Chloe blinks. But when she opens her eyes, Lucifer’s all-too-pleased-with-himself grin is still staring at her, so she closes her eyes again.  “A pet shark.”

“Yes.  Want to meet her?”

“Her?”  Her. His pet shark.  Because Lucifer has a pet shark.  Her nightclub owning civilian consultant who claims to be the Devil just got weirder.  Somehow. Chloe opens her eyes. “No. You cannot — and I can’t believe I have to say this — you _cannot_ have a pet shark.”

“Ooh.” Lucifer’s eyebrows raise and his lips purse.  “Jealous?”

Chloe just stares at him for a moment.  “Lucifer. Look at me.” She almost regrets saying that because as soon as she’s said it, Lucifer leans forward and gazes into her eyes.  And for a moment, Chloe almost understands why men and women alike throw themselves at him when he spares them so much as a glance. Almost.  She clears her throat. “Lucifer. You are not allowed to keep a pet shark in your nightclub.”

Lucifer scoffs.  “Why?”

“Why?” Chloe repeats.  Does she actually have to spell it out for him?   Lucifer is just looking at her expectantly. Apparently she does.  “Okay. One, because it’s illegal. And two, because it’s _dangerous._ ”

Lucifer shakes his head.  “How exactly is it dangerous?”

“It…” Chloe falters for a moment.  She’s imagining a shark’s fin swirling around in Lucifer’s hot tub, although she realizes that’s probably not where he would keep it.  But still, his clubgoers are not known for their careful observance of safety precautions. “What if someone fell in?”

Lucifer just looks amused.  “Then they’d get wet.” He pauses.  “But I assure you, that’s not an uncommon occurrence at Lux.”

“Ew,” Chloe replies, out of principle alone, if nothing else.

But Lucifer isn’t deterred.  “And maybe I like a little danger,” he purrs.

“Okay.  See, that’s what I’m talking about.”  Chloe huffs, closing the file on her desk.  Lucifer has once again well and truly distracted her from her paperwork.  “You’re not taking this seriously. I mean, what is it about rich men that makes them want to keep wild animals as pets?  Is it…is it like a power trip thing? You think caging something dangerous makes you cool and sexy? Or is just another way for you to wave your money around?  Like, ooh look how much money I can throw away, putting a shark in my nightclub. And attract a few more customers to come goggle at it while they toss back twenty dollar mojitos.”

“No.”  Lucifer suddenly straightens up.  The grin on his face is gone. “No, no, no.  You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not it.”

He sounds so serious, it takes Chloe off-guard for a moment.  “Okay.” She waits a beat. “Then what is it?”

“I don’t…” Lucifer fiddles with his cufflinks.  “First of all, I don’t have a fantasy of dominating any sort of creature, as you’re insinuating.  Believe me, I’ve dominated plenty, and it’s no fantasy. Even in the bedroom, it's only when someone asks nicely.  Secondly, If I want to wave money around, I’m far more likely to literally wave money around. Truly — I’ve been known to toss bucketfuls into the crowd.  It’s quite fun. And third, my club doesn’t require anything to attract guests than my own deliciously tempting presence.”

Chloe rolls her eyes.  “Okay…then, what? Why’d you get a…a pet shark, Lucifer?   _Why?_ ”

Lucifer is still twisting his cufflink back and forth.  “It’s my understanding that having a pet is meant to be less about dominance and more about…companionship.”

“Companionship,” Chloe repeats.  She squints at him. “So, what? You’re lonely, so you thought you’d get a pet shark?  Oh, sure, that makes sense.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”  Lucifer meets her gaze again. “You have the offspring.  And Maze.”

“Yeah, and you live in a jam-packed nightclub and have a never ending congo line of...sexual partners.”

“Yes, humans can be entertaining. Certainly useful for a good shag.” A sly smile plays across Lucifer’s face for a moment before disappearing again.  “But I found myself wanting to...adopt.”

Adopt.  Did he seriously just use that word?  To refer to his acquisition of an illegal shark?  

“Why a _shark_?” Chloe can’t keep the strained incredulity out of her voice.  “Why the sudden interest in sea creatures? What, are you Aquaman now?”

“No, still the Devil.”

“Then _why_ a shark?”

“I just…”  Lucifer shrugs, pressing his lips together.  “I just like sharks.”

An awkwardly long pause follows as Chloe processes that.  “You like sharks.”

Lucifer leans back again.  “I’m quite fond.”

“Okaaaay…” Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose.  “So...let me get this straight. You hate cats…”

“Obviously.  Smelly, judgmental creatures.”

“...and dogs...”

“Disgusting and irritating.”

“...and children…”

“Creepy little things.”

“...but you like _sharks._ ”

Lucifer’s mouth opens, his face the epitome of offended.  “Detective! I’m surprised you would be so narrow-minded.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows.  Because once again, she needs to take a moment to process Lucifer’s seemingly out-of-the-blue reaction.  “Sorry…” she says finally. “Did I…did I miss something? How is me being confused that you like sharks narrow-minded?”

Lucifer nods slowly.  “Well, the way you phrased it.  You imply that you don’t think sharks deserving of love.”

Again, Chloe has to pause to try to understand Lucifer’s train of thought.  But as per usual, he seems to be on a completely different playing field. Maybe playing a completely different sport entirely.  

“Love?  We are talking about _sharks,_ right?  The bloodthirsty fish that—”

“See?”  Lucifer interjects.  “See, that right there.”  He lifts a finger. “That, dear Detective, is prejudice.”

“Are you…” Chloe’s not sure whether she’s supposed to laugh at that or not.  The idea of being prejudiced against _sharks_ is comical per se, right?  But Lucifer’s not laughing. So she maintains her composure.  “Are you serious?”

Lucifer doesn’t say anything for a moment.  A rare reflective look crosses her partner’s face, as if he might actually be _thinking_ before speaking for once.  And then he opens his mouth.  “Do you know how many humans are killed by sharks each year?”

Whatever Chloe had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t a trivia question.  She shakes her head slowly. “Uh…”

Lucifer smiles, but it’s one of his snide, sinister smiles that sort of creep her out.  “Take a guess.” Although his tone is good-natured, the expression in his eyes is not. Chloe frowns.  

“No.  I’m not playing this game.  Just get to your point, Lucifer.”

Lucifer exhales sharply through his nose, clearly annoyed that she won’t let him toy with her.  

“Five.”

Chloe blinks, surprised.  “Really?”

Lucifer’s expression becomes infinitely more smug.  That’s clearly the reaction he was expecting. “Yup,” he says, popping the _p._  “You’re more likely to be killed by a lightning strike.  Or a dog. Or...hm, I don’t know, a cop. You want to talk about danger?  At least sharks don’t carry guns.”

Chloe furrows her brow at him, not fond of his insination. “Since when are you so into mythbusting?”

Lucifer tilts his head.  “I’ve _always_ sought to expose the truth,” he reminds her.  “These lies you people tell of sharks...they’re abhorrent.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, opening her casefile again.  She really needs to focus, if that’s even possible while Lucifer’s here.  “Okay, I think you’re being a little _dramatic._ ”

“Am I?” Lucifer suddenly leans forward again, his tone enraged.  And yup. Dramatic. But Chloe can’t help but look up into his dark, piercing eyes again.  He’s clearly distraught... “You’re so bloody brainwashed by these lies, you think it laughable that someone could have compassion for such an animal.”

“I…” Chloe’s frown deepens.  “Lucifer, I’m not laughing _at_ you, if that’s what you—”

“It’s not about _me_ ,” Lucifer huffs.  

Chloe raises her eyebrows. Well, that’s a first.  Isn’t everything usually about Lucifer, according to Lucifer?  “Okay… So...you’re really just upset that… That what? That sharks have a bad rap?”

“Yes!” Lucifer stands up suddenly, as if the chair cannot contain his emotions for one moment longer.  

“Okay…” Chloe’s caught halfway between just chalking this up as another one of Lucifer’s bounteous oddities and wanting to find out what’s behind the curtain.  She finally sighs. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret asking this, but… Why do you care so much about sharks?”

Lucifer regards her for a moment, and then lets out a breath from the back of his throat.  “I guess you could say I find their circumstances...unjust.”

“Why?” Chloe asks.  “Why sharks? There’s misinformation out there about all sorts of things.  I mean, a lot of people think Columbus actually _discovered_ America.”

“Yes, the plight of the American Indians is grievous indeed,” Lucifer agrees, nodding.  “But trust me, Christopher has a very special and much deserving place in Hell. And oh, you can’t imagine what seeing the face of the Devil will do to a fifteenth century Catholic.  Actually, Maze has a rather scintillating anecdote about Mr. Columbus if you’d care to ask her. The torture one can inflict on an instigator of genocide is quite—”

“Lucifer,” Chloe cuts him off.  “We were talking about sharks, remember?”  Mostly she just doesn’t want to encourage any more Devil-talk.  At least sharks are...real.

Lucifer closes his mouth.  “Right. Well, you did bring up Mr. Columbus, not I, but very well.  You want to hear about sharks?”

“I...yes.”   _Want_ might be somewhat of a strong word, but she is mildly curious.

“Sharks...have been _framed_ ...” The fury is Lucifer’s voice is back.  “Since the 1700s. Branded as vicious murderers.  Man-eaters. Sharks rarely kill humans, as I’ve said.  And when they do, it’s not because of some sadistic hunger for human flesh.  It’s an accident. A fluke. Sharks are not serial killers. Serial killers are a _human_ invention.  And yet, you humans have labeled a relatively peaceful animal as a bloodthirsty beast.”

Chloe just listens with her eyebrows raised, watching as Lucifer starts pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

“And it all came to a head in 1975, of course.”

“ _Jaws_ ,” Chloe deducts, not even needing to think about it.

“Precisely.  Exceptional year for music, terrible year for sharks.  I distinctly remember how the human fear of sharks rose so tremendously—”

“You were not alive in 1975,” Chloe interrupts, because she needs to ground this conversation in reality.  And she has seen Lucifer’s drivers license. He was born in 1978, the same as her.

Lucifer stops pacing and gives her a look.  “Of course I was, darling. I just didn’t exist on the earthly plane.  I did pop by for a holiday in 77, but that only lasted a few weeks before Amenadiel dragged me back to Hell.”

Well.  There goes reality.

“Anyway.”  Lucifer goes back to pacing.  “It was a perfect recipe for panic.  Sharks were already feared, thanks to hundreds of years of humans bad-mouthing them.  All they needed was an ominous soundtrack. And wallah, Mr. Spielberg successfully turned them into monsters.”

The venom in Lucifer’s voice is really apparent now. As is the fervor with which he’s pacing.  He’s starting to get weird looks from some of their coworkers. Although, with Lucifer that’s pretty much par for the course, honestly.

“And now no one would so much as contemplate extending a shark their sympathies.  They’re not an animal anymore, they’re a...beast. Bloodthirsty, hideous, evil beasts.  Right?”

Wow.  Why is it that her partner seems to care more about sharks’ reputations than he cares about most of the victims in the cases they solve?  Although he said this wasn’t about him, he certainly seems to be taking it personally. For some reason.

“Okay.  Listen, Lucifer,” Chloe says slowly.  “Obviously, you care a lot about this…”  

Lucifer only makes another annoyed breathy sound in reply, so Chloe continues.  

“But I don’t understand why.  Honestly, I don’t think sharks really care.  I mean…” Chloe chuckles a bit at the strangeness of this conversation.  “I don’t think they really have emotions, so—”

“Oh, don’t they?  You think they don’t care?” Lucifer freezes in place, looking at her with such indignation on his face that Chloe immediately stops chuckling.  “Tens of millions of sharks are killed by humans each year. Mostly on the basis of their reputation. Usually because a human has sliced off its fins and left it to die.  You ever lose a limb, Detective?”

It takes Chloe a moment to realize that wasn’t a rhetorical question.  He’s waiting for a response. She looks pointedly down at all four of her attached limbs.  Lucifer still waits, a patient look on his face. “...No,” Chloe finally answers. “No, I haven’t lost a—”

“Well, it’s quite traumatic,” Lucifer interrupts darkly, as if speaking from experience.  “In a shark’s case, once its fins have been hacked off, it will sink to the bottom of the ocean. It can’t swim.  It can’t breathe. And there, in the doleful dark, it will suffocate, bleed to death, or be gobbled up by predators.”

“That’s...awful,” Chloe admits, choosing to ignore Lucifer’s implication that he has ever lost a limb, because he also has four perfectly well-attached limbs.  

“Yes.”  Lucifer nods.  “So you see, humans’ love of telling each other scary stories about these creatures is utterly destroying them.  They are the true victims here.”

“I get it,” Chloe assures him.  “But...come on, Lucifer, you can’t really blame people for being afraid of sharks.  I mean...the teeth? It’s not like they’re incapable of killing a human.”

“Bloody hell, you’re a homicide detective!”  Lucifer throws his hands up. “You should know better than anyone that we’re _all_ capable of killing humans!  And of course they have sharp teeth — they are _carnivores_ .  They were _designed_ that way.  Of course they have a role to play in the aquatic food chain, but that is the role that was forced upon them by dear old Dad.”

Chloe sighs.  “Your dad, as in...God.”

“Obviously.”

Right.  Sure.

“Regardless, Lucifer, you can’t keep one as a pet.  It’s _illegal,_ ” Chloe persists.  Although she’s not even sure why she even bothers to try.  When has Lucifer ever listened to reason? Never. Especially not when it has something to do with his...Devil delusions.

Lucifer gives a short laugh. “And why should I care about your silly human laws?”

“Lucifer.  You work for the police department.”

“I work _with_ the police department.  I work _for_ no one.  I kneel to no one, human or otherwise.  If you want to expel me for that...well, you wouldn’t be the first.”

“That’s—” Chloe tries to explain that’s not what she is trying to do at all, but Lucifer cuts her off.

“But I am _not_ abandoning her.”

Her?  Oh. His shark.  Right. “Lucifer—”

“No.”  Lucifer interrupts her again.  “You have no idea what it’s like.  How would you feel if humans told each other frightening tales about what a horrible monster you are.  If while you were trapped far below, humans flitted about on land, perpetuating a story with you as the villain?”

As soon as those words are spoken, a look crosses Lucifer’s face like he’s said something he hadn’t meant to say.  And then just as quickly, he turns away and disappears. And Chloe is left sitting at her desk, wondering what exactly just happened.  

Unfortunately, that’s also pretty much par for the course.

* * *

 

The patrons of Lux aren’t dancing with the Devil tonight.  He isn’t on the dancefloor. Chloe only has to scan the club from the balcony to be reasonably certain of that.   He’s usually easy to spot, and not just because he’s tall. There’s something about him that makes it impossible for him to be swallowed up in a crowd.  He captivates attention.

And he captivates thoughts as well.  Chloe hasn’t been able to stop thinking about their conversation from earlier.  She couldn’t concentrate on her paperwork even after he left. Probably because the paperwork dealt with a closed case — a mystery solved.  

While Lucifer is still in many ways a mystery unsolved.

And a missing one, at that.  Because he’s not in the nightclub, and an elevator trip up the penthouse reveals that he’s not in his apartment either.

 _“Where are you?”_ Chloe finally gives up and just texts him. He doesn’t text back right away, so Chloe distracts herself by plucking absentmindedly at his Steinway.  She doesn’t usually get an opportunity to tap at the smooth keys without suffering the scrutiny of Lucifer’s judgmental eyes (and ears). Several minutes pass, and Chloe is about to pack it up and go home, when her phone buzzes.

 _“Seventh floor._ ”

Chloe stares at the cryptic message.  The seventh floor of _what?_ Lucifer could have at least given her an address.  Maybe he’s intentionally leaving it vague because he doesn’t want her to find him.  Lucifer always proclaims to never lie, but Chloe knows he’s an expert at leaving out crucial information when it suits him.  Perhaps now is one of those times.

Or maybe she’s overthinking it.  Maybe _Seventh Floor_ is the name of some other nightclub or…

Chloe glances toward the elevator.

Why has it never occurred to her until now to question what lies on the other floors of Lucifer’s building?

The seventh floor is awash in blue light.  It’s also strangely empty. Chloe’s not sure what she expected to find on the other floors...a sex-swing like Maze’s, maybe?  An entire sex-playground? But at least this floor — well, at least this room — is barren of any such fixtures. So barren that Lucifer is sitting on the ground.  His long legs are drawn up to his chest, his elbows are resting on his knees.

He’s staring up at something from which the blue light emanates.  From where she’s standing outside the elevator, Chloe can’t see what it is, but it’s something big.  A huge movie screen, perhaps? Whatever it is, it has Lucifer’s rapt attention. He doesn’t even look over at Chloe when she approaches.  

As she walks toward Lucifer, she realizes with a quiet gasp that it’s not a screen — it’s a window.  A window into a huge pool. It fills the entire floor minus this small room that Lucifer is sitting it.  It has a sandy bottom and several coral fixtures. It’s…

“You built an _aquarium_?”

Lucifer breathes out slowly, making Chloe wonder if he was expecting a different reaction.  “Well...I couldn’t very well get a shark without the accoutrements, could I?”

Chloe stares into the great expanse of water.  It looks like something you would find in an actual aquarium. Like a real one.  Like the kind they sell tickets to. Building this must have cost...well, Chloe can’t even imagine.  Exactly _how_ filthy rich is Lucifer exactly?  Another mystery for another day.

“Where...is it?”

“Oh.  She’s coming this way…” Lucifer’s voice sounds guarded.  And Chloe can see how tense his shoulders are as she moves even closer to the window.

She stops in her tracks as she sees a large shape approaching.  She sees the white underside of it first — it stands out the most in the dark water.  And then the outline appears. Sharp fins, a long tail, a pointed nose. It has a dark gray body with white on the tips of its fins.  It swims past the window, but not quickly. Not aggressively. With a casual slowness, in fact. The sleek form slides nonchalantly through the water.  And then a graceful flick of the tail sends it gliding off in another direction.

Chloe exhales a breath she hadn’t know she’d been holding. Wow.  “Lucifer…”

Lucifer’s shoulders tense even more.  

“It’s… She’s beautiful,” Chloe whispers.

Lucifer finally looks up at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Really? I thought you believed sharks to be...what was it? Monstrous sociopaths?”

Chloe sighs.  “Come on. That’s _not_ what I said.”

Lucifer gives a choked laugh.  “It might as well have been.”

“Okay.  Yeah.” Chloe huffs, throwing up her arms.  “I was...a bit harsh. But that was before I… Before you told me all of that…” Chloe falters, struggling with her words.  She glances back at the dark shape just moving calmly around in the water. “Look, I’d never met a shark before, alright?”

Lucifer looks back at the shark as well.  He stares at it for a long moment, pensive.  Then he nods slowly. “You’re a human. You had a human reaction to something your species has been trained to fear for hundreds of years.  It’s only natural. Don’t worry, I know you’re not to blame for your narrow conception of the universe.”

Chloe’s not sure what to say to that.  “I’m… Yeah, I’m definitely human.” That they can agree on.  

“Indeed.  Perhaps I needed the reminder,” Lucifer mutters.  Chloe’s not sure if he’s still talking to her, or just to himself. She steps closer, and Lucifer’s shoulders get tense again.  Chloe frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” Lucifer looks up at her again, a searching look on his face.  “I thought you were going to try to take her away.”

Chloe can’t help but think that wasn’t what Lucifer had been worrying about a moment ago.  Again, Lucifer doesn’t lie (or so he says) but he doesn’t tell the truth either. He’s a puzzle.  A mystery. One that Chloe will unravel eventually. But for now, all she can do is respond to what he puts forth.   

“Could I? If I wanted to?  I thought you said you don’t kneel to anyone.”

Lucifer sits up a bit straighter.  “I don’t. But…” He pauses. “I also don’t wish to be your adversary.”

“Lucifer…” Chloe rolls her eyes — not out of annoyance, but only to show him how ridiculous that notion is. “You could never be my adversary.  We’re _partners._  Those two things are mutually exclusive.”  

Lucifer stares at her.  His lips part. “What… Does that mean you’re not going to confiscate my little one?”

His _little one._  Lucifer is...just such a weirdo.  But Chloe wouldn’t have it any other way.  God help her. She sighs and sits down next to him.  Just plops down on the floor right beside him. “No. I’m not going to take your shark, Lucifer.”

Lucifer’s confused frown makes a gradual transition into a delighted grin.  “Detective!”

Chloe can’t help but smile as well.  His joy is infectious. “Just don’t get me into trouble, alright?”

Lucifer bows his head.  “You have my word.” The solemnity in his voice makes Chloe wonder — not for the first time — why he takes promises so seriously.  It seems to be a huge departure from the Devil persona he has worked so hard to cultivate. Isn’t the Devil famously a liar? The _Deceiver,_ right?  One would think that someone calling himself Satan would be the very last person you should trust.  And yet Chloe trusts Lucifer. Implicitly.

“So uh…”  Chloe reaches up a hand to tuck some stray strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail behind her ear.  Mostly as an excuse to break eye-contact so she can have a second to breathe. “What kind of shark is she?”

Lucifer leans back, stretching out his legs.  He doesn’t look so tense anymore, but he doesn’t look completely at ease either.  Like maybe there’s still something quibbling in the back of his mind. But she doesn’t expect him to mention it.

“Oceanic whitetip” Lucifer answers after a moment.  “They do alright in...captivity. Obviously, I would prefer her to live wild and free in the ocean, but… She was bred in captivity.  Kept there until her previous owner wanted her gone, kicked her out of the house, as it were. And she wouldn’t do well…”

“No, you’re right.  She needed a friend.”   That’s actually...very sweet.   _Surprisingly_ sweet of Lucifer to rescue an animal that lost its home.  And now Chloe feels even more guilty for assuming the shark was a _vanity purchase_. Well...as if Lucifer really needs an exotic pet to be vain.  He manages fine simply on the merits of being tall, dark, and handsome.    

But of all the words Chloe would use to describe Lucifer, _sweet_ was never really one of them.  And yet there is something...well, _darling_ about the way he talks about his shark.  And in the way he’s looking at Chloe like she just hung the stars in the sky for him.  Although Chloe can’t quite understand why.

“Yes.  I suppose so.”  He clears his throat then, turning away from Chloe to look back at his shark.  “That’s my intention, anyway. You know me, I’m not really one for friendships but I have been known to make a few exceptions.  And for Trixie, I shall aspire to do my best.”

Chloe blinks.  “Uh...what? For _Trixie?_ ”

Lucifer tilts his head at her.  “For Trixie. My shark.” He gestures to the aquarium.  

“You…” Chloe stares, dumbfounded.   “You...named your shark Trixie?”

“Yes.”  Lucifer sounds like he can’t fathom what could possibly be wrong with that. “It’s short for Bellatrix.”

“Like...like in Harry Potter?”

Lucifer scoffs.  “Ms. Rowling did not invent the name.  Just as I was not named after an evil cartoon cat.”

Just when Chloe thought this conversation couldn’t get any stranger.  “You’ve seen _Cinderella_?”

Lucifer gives her a look like she just asked a very stupid question. “They named their villainous feline after me, of course I was curious.”

Okay, at this point Chloe’s trying very hard not to laugh.  “Well, you know what they say about curiosity, Lucifer.”

Lucifer gives her an unamused glare. “I am _not_ a cat.”

Chloe suppresses another giggle, before sobering slightly to ask,  “Wait, so are you saying _you_ invented the name Lucifer?”

“Of course not.  As I told you when we first met, Dad bestowed the name upon me.”

 _God-given._  “Right…” says Chloe slowly.

“Anyway,” says Lucifer with an air of wanting to change the subject.  “Bellatrix is a lovely name of Latin origin, meaning warrior. And Trixie here has—”

“Please don’t call your shark Trixie.”

“Why not?”

“Because my _daughter_ is named Trixie!”

“Well, didn’t we just establish that more than one person or animal can have the same name?”

“No.  No way.”

“...Very well.”  Lucifer sighs. “ _Bella_ has more than earned her title.”

Chloe considers that for a moment.  It’s very telling that Lucifer’s definition of a warrior includes not only someone engaged in warfare, but anyone who has suffered a great deal.  And being kicked out of your home...that’s something Lucifer would empathize with, wouldn’t he? Chloe doesn’t know much of what actually happened in Lucifer’s past, but he has definitely mentioned being thrown out by his dad.  Of course, she doesn’t actually believe he was cast out of Heaven by God, but something like that can still be incredibly traumatic even without the eternal damnation. Losing your home, your family, being rejected by your parents… Something like that can mess a kid up permanently.

And make him think he’s the Devil?  Well...there’s probably more to it than that.  There’s probably more to the story. Somewhere along the lines he must have felt like everyone reviled him.  Somewhere along the lines it must have been Lucifer against the world.

Kind of like sharks, right?

Maybe this _is_ personal. Despite Lucifer’s claims otherwise.  Of course, she’s not doubting that Lucifer truly loves sharks...but there must be a reason for it.  Just like Ella loves Star Trek because “It’s found families in _space,_ guys!”  Lucifer loves sharks because… Because not only does he understand them, but he _understands_ them.  Lucifer can empathize with not only Bella’s situation, but with sharks as a whole.  

Because for whatever reason...maybe it’s his dad’s doing...maybe it’s something Lucifer did, some mistake in his past...maybe it’s just society… Whatever it is, whatever happened, Lucifer thinks he’s...a monster.  He thinks he’s the Devil.

And so, everyone hates him. Or fears him.  In his mind, at least.

Chloe takes a breath.  “Lucifer… About this sharks thing…”

Lucifer immediately tenses again beside her. Like he read what she’s thinking on her face.  Of course. Lucifer doesn’t open up. He’s a locked door and she hasn’t found the key. Yet.  Well...thankfully he’s in therapy, at least.

She sighs.  “I just want you to know that...I’m not feeding your shark when you go out of town.”

The relief is Lucifer’s face is painfully obvious.  His shoulders drop and he cracks a smile, chuckling. “Ah, that’s not very sporting of you, Detective.  Someone always feeds _your_ little urchin when you’re absent.  But not to worry. I hired a...professional.”

“That’s good.”   And it is. Despite his surprising knowledge of shark history, Chloe is not sure she would trust Lucifer to care for one on his own. Not after the way he had killed her plant through alcohol poisoning.  

“Yes, I’m not really the nurturing type, am I?” Lucifer agrees, probably guessing exactly what she’s thinking.  “You earth creatures are all so fragile. It’s scary, honestly.”

“Scary?” Chloe repeats, not sure what he means by that.

“Well yes, the fact that you can can kick the bucket simply from lack of nutrition.  It’s very poor design, isn’t it? Like a vibrator that comes without any batteries.”

Chloe snorts in amusement at his antics, but doesn’t otherwise respond to it.  There’s something much more genuine that he’s saying, which he’s clearly trying to deflect her attention from with humor.  “So. You’re saying that the “Devil” cares whether we “humans” live or die?”

Lucifer drops his gaze.  “Well. He’s not completely indifferent.  Regarding some of you, that is. My barber, for example.  It would be quite inconvenient if he bit the dust. I’d have to find another chap with intimate knowledge of my hair-type.”

“Right.  Anyone else?”

“Uh...well, Doctor Linda would be tough to replace too.  I guess you could say I’m what the psychiatry community calls a “difficult patient.””

“I bet.”

Lucifer gives her an affronted look, but continues.  “And… Well, I suppose you already know how I feel about _you_ cashing in.  I’m not overly enthusiastic about it, that’s for sure.  It would certainly put an end to our partnership, if you were to go where I can’t follow.”

His words present memories of Lucifer’s reactions to all the times Chloe flirted with death in the past couple of years.  When she was shot within a few days of them meeting. Her car crash. The poisoning. _Not overly enthusiastic_ is definitely an understatement.  But the emotion — the vulnerability in Lucifer’s voice is not understated.  And the look in his eyes bares all. He cares about her.

Maybe that’s all she needs to know for now. Chloe looks back to the aquarium, watching Bella swim past the window again.  The white on the tips of her fins stands out starkly against the dark coloring of the majority of her body. It’s a bit incongruous, but still beautiful in a unique way.  “Hm. Bella also means beautiful, doesn’t it?”

Lucifer nods.  “It does.”

“Yeah.  It’s fitting.”  Chloe leans her head against Lucifer’s shoulder.  She can feel him stiffen in surprise under her, but Chloe ignores it.  It’s his fault for not having any furniture in the room, forcing them to sit on the floor with nothing else to lean on.   And after a moment, Lucifer shifts his arm to better accommodate her. Chloe sighs in content, much more comfortable now. Lucifer glances at her, and then shakes his head, like he’s looking at something utterly baffling.

“So…” Lucifer’s tone is measured, cautious.  “You don’t...think she’s a monster?”

Chloe doesn’t hesitate.  “No. She’s just misunderstood.”

  
_Fin_ (pun intended)


End file.
